time and time again
by anchora
Summary: / ichihime (onesided) / What will it take to make you love me?


**time and time again**

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First Bleach fic :) Oh, and remember: this is a one-sided IchiHime, mmkay? Thanks.

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Sora always told her that Time was many things. Time was a circle, never ending. Time was a river, that could carry away everything you had with no leeway. Time was a great turning gear that could never be stopped.

Yet Time was a gear that could be turned back.

When he said that, Sora turned his dark eyes to the portrait of his wife. It hung over their fireplace, her eyes the same golden color as the light that flickered on the walls in the winter. The smile on her face was serene, the perfect embodiment of her name; Yukai, _happy_. She had been gone years, but to them it felt like yesterday. In a few short months following her death, Sora had invented the Tempus, the time device. In his eyes, it was one of the greatest mistakes he had ever made, to create something that could distort such a powerful force, leaving Orihime to wonder if he would have made it without the immense grief driving him.

— I —

Rangiku is the saucy one, the one with a mind all her own. She often parades about the house, her large, manufactured breasts bursting out of the black and white kimono she is adorned with. When Orihime sits them down for tea, she somehow sneaks liquor into her cup, and on one occasion, Orihime's as well, drinking into a stupor. She is also the prettiest, bestowed with strawberry blonde hair that curls down her back, vibrant blue eyes and full lips. Jealousy has been known to bubble up in Orihime from time to time at the sight of her.

"Y'know, I don't think Sora is coming back." Rangiku drawls from the small tea table, a teacup of Sake in front of her. "It's been more than six months, and -_hic_- I've heard from the television that a lot of people are dying in this -_hic_- war."

"Hush, Rangiku. We mustn't speak of such things." the smallest of Orihime's automaton dolls, Toshiro, quips. Of all the dolls she owned, he is the most reserved, and polite, his tan face usually set into into a firm expression. Orihime finds him to be rather curious, with soft white hair and turquoise eyes **—** he is quite the strange-looking one.

Orihime's personal favorite, Tatsuki, turns to look at the teenage girl. "She doesn't know what she's talking about, Orihime. I'm sure Sora's fine, on the television they said it can take up to a year for a soldier to return from the war."

Orihime nods, a grateful smile placed on her lips. "Thank you, Tatsuki. Would you like some more tea?" she asks, holding the pot up to serve her. They might have called it tea, but at the very least Orihime knew that it was really just hot water sparingly flavored with "tea leaves" from the garden outside. The real tea was long finished. They used to have a young delivery boy bring them things like milk and honey and other luxuries, but he had stopped coming long ago as well. It was only when Orihime finally decided to put on a coat and go into town to buy some food that she realized why.

The town had been in in shambles. The charred remains of what used to be shops and houses lay about the cracked streets, steam still pouring out of them. At one point, she had passed an old bomb, cautious not to get too close. A zeppelin ambled above, the only thing of color in the sky. At first it astonished Orihime that she had never heard such destruction, but then again, her house was far, far away.

She remembered coming across a large pit, her gray eyes settling upon the most horrific site she had ever seen. A pile of dead bodies was at the bottom, some still clutching each other in fear and horror, and others burned beyond recognition. It was then that she'd decided Sora was right in telling her the town was unsafe.

Another doll, Momo, brings Orihime out of her thoughts. "We're just fine right here, right Orihime?"

She sloshes the bland liquid around in her cup. "Right."

— II —

On Orihime's twelfth birthday, Sora had bought her a small puppy. It was soft and black, its large dark eyes twinkling up at her. She held it close to her, cooing at it and feeding it small treats. It was one of those occasions that the pup had sunk its teeth into her finger, too engrossed in it's treat to notice it was gone. Orihime had cried out as a reaction, instinctively throwing her assailant to the floor. As quickly as the panic had risen, it had subsided. Orihime saw her error, but the damage was done **—** the dog had died.

She sobbed inconsolably at what she'd done, and it was then that Sora had shown her the Tempus.

— III —

Another month passed, and Orihime's dresses were now becoming noticeably too small. The sleeves grazed her wrists, the buttons threatened to not close over her chest. The teen girl was becoming more and more unkempt as time passed. Her once straight-facing, full fringe had grown to her chin, now parted to the side of her face. The blue pins she had as a child no longer did their job in holding her hair back from her face, as it was already doing so on it's own. However, she does not care, since there is no one of importance to see her.

She went outside into the garden, her slender hands gently prodding and lifting fruit to her face to check for ripeness. The things that grew in her garden used to be widely varied, but now she is only left with a few kinds of produce. Coupled with the seemingly endless amount of red bean paste in the pantry, Orihime finds herself making strange dishes that may appear unappetizing, but she finds them quite delicious. Her favorite thing to make is sweet potatoes drizzled with butter and honey.

She has a small automaton follow behind her, carrying a basket in which she puts the food. Unlike the others who more closely resemble dolls, this automaton is bronze in color, with steam pipe limbs and a clock body. His head is round, bolts making up his features. She has bestowed him with the name Lolly, from the way his head occasionally lolls to the side because of it's weight.

More than once, Orihime has found things, marks left behind of the war. Sometimes they are burned pictures in sepia, of men in uniform; other times they are things like knives and badges. She has even found a metal leg, which she buried in the compost pile.

This time she finds a man.

Lolly is the first to notice him, his alarm displayed when steam erupts from the holes in his head for ears, making a noise akin to that of a teakettle. Orihime is so surprised, she has to swallow a scream of her own. It has been a very long time since she has last seen another living creature. Her gray eyes travel over his crumpled form, sighing in relief at the charcoal color of his uniform, which signified he was on their side. She takes note of the dark slash on the left side of his chest, oozing blood.

"Lolly, help me bring him inside," Orihime whispers, inching closer to the man. He has fallen in the roses, their thorns scratching up his skin and face. When Lolly places one of his sharp calipers round the man's wrist, they dig in, causing him to cry out in pain. His face is young-looking, smooth. He has a very odd hair color **—** bright orange, brighter even than the snapdragons.

Orihime moves Lolly aside, opting instead to take the man inside by herself. She drapes him across her back, taking a firm hold of his arm. He is much taller and heavier than she. It is a struggle, but eventually the girl brings him into the kitchen, laying him gently on the floor. With a pair of kitchen shears, she cuts away she fabric that sticks to his skin from the blood and bares his shoulder. A small gasp escapes her lips **—** the wound is an angry red, pulsating and hot. The dark lines that spread out from it to his shoulder are tell-tale signs of poison, if Orihime remembers anything for her medical books. The jagged edges of the wound lead her to suspect something more primal than a sword or knife. Debris, perhaps?

In Sora's study there is a wooden box, from which there emanates a small chirping, almost like that of birds. They are not birds, however. The soldier thrashes about, moaning and crying out as the mechanical leeches run over his body. They suck out the blood, some of the translucent coppery beings turning a dark violet as the poison transfers from the man's body to theirs. One by one, they fall to the side, having had their fill. By now, the soldier is breathing heavily, eyes now open in fear.

Orihime notices that they are amber.

She sits down next to him on the ground, pushing the hair away from his dirty face, murmuring sweet things to him.

"It's all right. There, there."

Soon, he falls asleep. Orihime takes this chance to look at the tags around his neck. One says _Ichigo Kurosaki _and the other says _Shinigami. _She's heard that name before; it belongs to an airship, and a rather deadly one. That meant he must have fallen off of it in some kind of explosion of battle.

"Ichigo..." she whispers, but he doesn't answer.

— IV —

That night, there is something that clenches Orihime's heart. She isn't sure what it is, but every time her thoughts wander over to the man, there is a fluttering in her chest, a kind of warmth that bursts through her heart and courses over her entire body. She finds herself smiling, his name always on her lips.

_Ichigo..._

_Ichigo..._

_Ichigo..._

— V —

In the morning, she and her dolls have tea again. It is literally the only thing they have to do.

"He is going to fall in love with you," Rangiku says, her voice clear and sure in a way that only she can muster. One of her slender, perfect brows rises, daring anyone to contradict her. "You are going to nurse him back to health and in the process he will fall in love with you. That's always how it happens in the black and white movies."

"Love?" Momo's face is curious. "What's that?"

Rangiku almost spits out her tea-water. "You don't know what love is?!"

Before she can continue on to a rant, Tatsuki pulls some of her hair. "Shut up Rangiku, neither do you."

"Love," says Orihime, hoping that her interjection will prevent another catty argument, "is when you always want to be near someone, and you give them things and they make you happy and if they ever leave it makes you sad and miserable."

Momo looks sad. "That sounds awful... I hope it never happens to you."

Although she knows that this is meant in a caring way, Orihime's feelings are hurt. To never love surely must be one of the greatest horrors of the world **—** from what she's seen, love is beautiful and passionate and one of the greatest joys in life.

"Do you love us, Orihime?" Tatsuki looks at her with wide eyes, a somewhat hopeful glitter in them.

The question hangs in the air; Orihime is unsure of how to answer them. She feels a deep affection for them, but could it be called love? After a pregnant pause, she says, "Come on, Toshiro. I need you to help me stitch him up."

She is very glad to see that his wound is much better now, not quite as red and swollen. She spread it with antibiotics in hopes that it would heal slightly while she let it rest, and to prevent any new infection from coming through.

Toshiro's small hands are precise in the sewing. Orihime sits and watches him, while Tatsuki sits on his arms, in the event that he should wake up and begin to thrash about. He shouldn't though, because Orihime has given him a sleeping draught.

_What if I gave him too much? _The thought is horrifying **—** such a tragedy that would be.

— VI —

When Ichigo wakes up, it is nearly dawn of the next day. He does not try to sit up, but looks around the room in confusion, taking in the sight of old furniture, the watery pink light that drips through the blinds, and the bed he is in. A shuffling noise comes from his right, prompting Ichigo to turn his head.

"You're awake." states the girl in the chair next to his bed. A book lies closed in her lap, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Ichigo can make out what he assumes is burnt-orange hair, not unlike his own.

"Who are you?" he asks, slowly and clearly. He blinks his bright brown eyes.

"I'm Orihime Inoue. I found you in my garden... you must've fallen from your airship."

"My ship was blown out of the sky. I got impaled by some**—**" he grunts in pain, placing a large hand to his shoulder, feeling along the stitches. "Did... did you do this? Did you heal me?"

Orihime nods in reply. She unsure of whether or not to mention the dolls.

Ichigo gently holds her wrist, looking into her clear gray eyes. "Thank you," he breathes, a small smile pulling at his lips. "Thank you for saving my life."

There is a warmth that spreads across Orihime's body. She is pleased that he appreciates her efforts.

Perhaps Rangiku was right.

— VII —

After the puppy died, Orihime weeped in her room for hours. She stopped only when Sora's shadow fell across her bed. He placed one of his hands on her back, saying, "Orihime. Orihime. Sit up, there's something I want to show you."

Sora wasn't big or tall or particularly strong, but he was a smart man. If given the right resources when they were young, he could have easily become a scholar. With the brilliant mind that he possessed, he often created magnificent inventions and contraptions, much like the Tempus he held in his hand. It was rather small, to Orihime's surprise, hung on a chain like some sort of pendant. It was gold, with two rings revolving around a solid gold core that had a small clock.

"When Yukai died," he explained, holding the device up. "I built this. I hoped I could go back and save her, but I could only make it go back a month, and by the time I was finished she had been dead years." Sora handed it to her. "You can go back if you like. To when your puppy was still alive. You just turn it like so**—**" he opened the face of the clock, revealing setting for minutes, hours, days, and weeks, then closed it and turned the rings one, two, three times. "And it goes back."

Suddenly the world became a swirl of color, and Orihime felt as though she was going down some sort of well. She quickly found herself back at that morning, where the puppy was in it's bed, sleeping as it had been where she first saw it. The young girl ran to it, squeezing tighter and tighter in happiness, until it went very still in her arms. She lifted up the poor animal, limp as a rag, and began to cry once more when she realized what she had done again. This time when Sora came in asking what was wrong, Orihime didn't have the heart to ask him to use the Tempus for a second time.

— VIII —

At finding out that Orihime lives by herself, Ichigo is shocked. He asks tons of questions, like where her brother went (to the war), what about her parents (she didn't know), how long has it been since he's left (seven months), and exactly how does she eat, live, survive? Calmly, the girl answers his questions, serving him tea and rice cakes with honey, soy sauce and spinach, which he kindly declines. She is sometimes bewildered by the surprise on his face at some of her answers; to her, this lifestyle is nothing strange as it is the only one she's known.

In exchange, he tells her about himself. He is a captain, at only twenty years old **—** the youngest ever. He lives in the capital, Seireitei, a place filled with buildings that reach the sky and all kinds of machines that perform amazing tasks. He tells her that it's a place where everyone always seems to be in a hurry to go somewhere that doesn't exist. He describes the library, a beautiful building made of glass, and the tallest one in the city, and about the trains that run above the clouds through magnetism, which go at astounding speeds. Orihime finds herself wholeheartedly interested in what he has to say, especially the part where he talks about the dress-making automatons that can take your measurements in the morning, and by noon they will have your dress ready and even delivered right to your door. It sounds like a rather amazing idea, especially considering the too-tight bodice of her own dress.

"That must be nice, to live in the Seireitei." Orihime says, eyes sparkling.

"It's nice out here too," Ichigo replies. "I'm amazed at what you've been able to do with the resources you have. I'm really lucky you found me."

"I'm the lucky one," Orihime breathes, but in a voice so soft even she can barely hear it.

"I wish you could meet my sisters." the soldier tells her, smiling. "Yuzu and Karin. I really think they'd like you, and Yuzu would probably be impressed by your heroism."

Orihime swells with pride at his remark. A honeyglow rises in her cheeks, and her heart feels like it could burst. He is so kind and handsome, and when he talks about the capital his face takes on a youthful quality that is masked by the war. She doesn't want their conversation to end, and wants to stay by his side for the rest of the day.

He makes her happy.

_Is this what love feels like?_

— IX —

"Ichigo doesn't know about you, so you mustn't bother him, because you could scare him, all right?" she sasy to Rangiku in particular, as they eat tomato soup. "Please respect his privacy, the same way you respect Sora's."

"What will you do when Sora comes back? You're going to have to move him to a different room." Tatsuki remarks.

"Well..." Orihime begins to blush profusely. "We will stay in the same room. That is what people who love each other do."

Toshiro has a concerned look painted across his features. "You need to be careful, Orihime. Don't make uneducated assumptions like that **—** you can't guarantee that he will love you."

"So he will move to your room?" Rangiku has a very squashed sort of look on her face. She is most likely thinking of Orihime's small bed that is barely big enough for one.

"Of course not, silly!" chirps the redhead. "We will move to the Seireitei and get married!"

Rangiku is silent for a long while. "... I don't think we will like it in the Seireitei very much, Orihime."

A rare bout of anger suddenly rises up in Orihime's chest. "Then you can stay here. Besides, someone is going to have to watch the house until Sora comes back."

Before Rangiku can make a snarky retort, Orihime hears Ichigo's footsteps come up the stairs. "Be quiet," she whispers, then leaves the room to greet him.

"Would you walk with me out in the garden?" Ichigo asks. "I could go for some fresh air."

She nods and hurries to his side, hoping that the dolls aren't poking their fake heads around the corner.

The pair walks carefully amongst the flower beds, breathing the clean spring air deep into their lungs. Orihime has slipped her hand into Ichigo's, carefully guiding him.

"How have you been feeling?" she asks.

"Much better, actually. In fact I think I might be well enough to make the trip back to Seireitei very soon."

The comment causes something heavy to drop into the pit of Orihime's stomach. It feels very much like dread. Her heart begins to accelerate in panic **—** surely he isn't leaving her behind? No, she tells herself, he isn't because he will take her with him where they will live happily together for the rest of their lives.

"H-how soon?"

"Tomorrow."

Orihime's heart soars suddenly. "Then I will make a special dinner to celebrate tonight!" she turns and takes his other hand, causing Ichigo to appear startled.

"That sounds nice." he says. "Thank you." he turns so that they are walking back to the house, both hands slipping out of Orihime's. It doesn't appear intentional, and the teen tells herself that he means nothing by it. After all, tomorrow they leave together.

That is what matters.

— X —

Later, Orihime is singing softly as she packs up a trunk with all of her clothes. It is large and heavy with more than enough room for everything.

"You can't leave us," pleads Momo. She tugs at her master's sleeve. Tatsuki is sitting on a windowsill, looking out at the sunset and pretending that Orihime really isn't packing up to go.

The girl disregards Momo's pleas, too elated to care. Her heart is soaring through the heavens at the mere thought of going away with Ichigo to a place where they will never be apart.

"If you go," once again, Toshiro's face is serious and his tone authoritative. "There will be no one to take care of us, and then what will we do?"

Without a second thought Orihime replies, "Sora will. Sora will take care of you when he comes back."

A soft whisper comes from Tatuski. "I don't think he's ever coming back, Orihime." Although she isn't programmed for it, her voice makes it sound as though she's crying. "He left and he died in the war, and now you're leaving too, and the both of you aren't coming back."

Tears prick at Orihime's eyes. She is hurt, and angry, that the dolls she thought were her friends, wouldn't want this for her. Don't they understand that she will be happy? For too long she has had nobody and nothing to really _love_, and now that such an opportunity has presented itself to her she is determined to not let it slip right through her fingers. She closes the trunk with a final _thud._

"Stop it," she says, her voice cracking. "Stop it, or... or I'll turn you off. For good."

They stay silent, after that.

— XI —

Inside Sora's room is a wardrobe still filled with Yukai's old clothes. Orihime is glad that some of her dresses fit her, as she picks out a white one that caresses the floor. It has no sleeves, but instead comes with white gloves that reach past her elbows. She puts on her only pair of sandals before heading down to the cellar, where she picks up the last of the preserved peaches and a single bottle of wine. There is some dried meat, and bread.

_No use in saving these anymore, _she thinks. _Once I leave, they will go to waste._

With the food and some vegetables she picks from the garden, Orihime makes what she believes is something of a rather plain meal (meat sauteed with onions, bread topped with tomatoes) and sets it out on the dining table along with the wine, peaches, and fine china.

When Ichigo sees the meal before him, he can't help but laugh good-naturedly.

"It's like the food my sisters would make for those midnight feasts we'd have."

Orihime laughs as well, concealing the guilt she stores inside when she senses four pairs of eyes staring at them from around the corner. Ichigo has not noticed, however, as he fills up their glasses, making a toast in hopes of them winning the war. Orihime has long forgotten what the war is about or who they are fighting, but she drinks the wine all the same, doing her best to prevent from making a sour face at such a bitter drink. They toast again, to people like her, who, although they are not on the front lines of battle, are helping to heal the sick and injured.

On the third toast, when the bottle is nearly empty and Orihime feels like she could go to sleep at any second, Ichigo raises his glass, and says, "And a toast to some fortunate future day where this mess will be over, and hopefully you and I will be able to meet again."

She almost drops her glass. "Wh-what?" she looks at Ichigo, whose eyes are bright and his cheeks are flushed. He repeats the toast.

"I... I thought you were going to take me with you back to the Seireitei!"

"Orihime, it's too dangerous from here to there."

"You can't leave me here!" she cries, gray orbs brimming with tears.

Ichigo is taken aback by her actions. He sits down, facing her. "I-I wasn't going to. I planned on getting back home and sending out a court guard company to get you. I'm not heartless Orihime, I really appreciate everything you've done for me, but as much as it hurts me to say this, I don't think I would be able to protect you. It's too dangerous**—**"

"Not if we're together!" fat teardrops chase each other down her cheeks. "I wouldn't be a burden, I promise!"

"And what if we came across an enemy?" Agitation has become apparent in Ichigo's tone. "What if you had to fight them? Orihime, I've seen you, and I know you aren't cut out for that sort of thing. Plus you lack proper training. It just wouldn't work."

"You don't understand! I love you, Ichigo! I wanted us to go back to Seireitei together, and-and get married!"

There is a horrified silence.

"Orihime, I don't think you love me. You haven't known long enough for that. And not to mention that I'm engaged, Orihime**—**" he tugs on a chain, revealing a small locket with a picture of a woman inside. She has black hair, and jewel-like violet eyes. "Her name's Rukia."

It sounds like he wants to say more, But Orihime is too upset, to ashamed of herself to stick around any longer. She pushes away from the table, rushing out of the dining room. She hears Ichigo get up quickly as well, rushing after her.

"I could never think of you in that way, Orihime. You're like a sister to me**—**" his voice is cut off once Orihime reaches to her room and shuts the door. She sits on the floor, head buried in her knees. She can hear her name being called over and over on the other side of the door, but ignores it, wishing to simply be left alone with her stupidity.

Small hands caress her hair and rub her back after everything goes silent. Orihime cries and cries, repentant for all those assumptions she'd made and the thoughts she'd had. She believes herself undeserving of the kind treatment her dolls are giving her. They act as if there was never a fight between them,

Eventually she stops crying, picking her head up and staring at the wall vacantly.

"I... I loved him."

"I'm sorry, Orihime. I was wrong to tell you that he was going to fall in love with you." Rangiku admits, ducking her head.

"It wasn't your fault, Hime. "

"These things happen."

"I didn't want you to get hurt."

The girl pushes some hair away from her face. "I don't know what happened, why he won't reciprocate my feelings. I would do this all over again for him, but I-I would be more charming. I would be more loving, and make him love me the way I love him."

— _and the clock strikes _XII —

It is daybreak. Orihime stands up, and walks to the window. From there, she can see Ichigo, wearing his uniform. It is patched at the shoulder. He is taking nothing with him, nothing except her heart. He looks up, brown eyes squinting at the morning sun, and waves goodbye. Orihime gives a small wave of her own, faking a small smile.

Ichigo drops his hand and turns away. It is then that Orihime looks down at her hands. The Tempus is nestled in her palms, glittering in the light. She opens it up, selecting the 'days' setting before closing it again. Carefully, she turns the rings back once, twice, thrice, until she gets to five. Just like before, the world's colors swirl and mix together, sucking Orihime back into it's tunnel. In moments it is over and she is breathless, finding herself sitting once more at the windowsill all by herself.

In a moment of horror she wonders if perhaps she made a mistake, a miscalculation, but no, sure enough she sees a soldier with orange hair stagger out of the woods and lie there before making the long crawl to her garden, where Orihime will find him again.

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**I ship** IchiRuki, but I like IchiHime. I really do. It's nice to read and write about other pairings outside of your OTP, I think. Anyways, I hope I did a good job in writing them and I hope you enjoyed reading this crazy long one-shot :)

Please review!


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